Martha meets someone special
by Jay-Em Stevens
Summary: After a long Dr Who binge, I was somewhat miffed at the way the the writers of the show treated Martha, and decided to give her some more time. I was also intrigued by the episode where the 11th doctor actually meets The Tardis' persona. This little vignette-story can be seen as sort of a prequel, I guess.
1. Chapter 1

**Martha meets someone special**

"Infuriating. Just..maddening, frustrating and infuriating. Thát's what he is". Martha mumbled to herself.

"Thank You" was all she had gotten, saving his life, purging the solar heat radiation thingy from him. She never wanted to hear "burn with me" again. She shivered at the memory. Oh, But she dìd get the key to the Tardis. That was kind of nice to be honest.

Martha sighed. She nèver got a cold shoulder if she let loose her charms, she could usually wind ány guy she fancied around her pretty little fingers, not that she acted on that, but the Doctor? Completely impervious. Yes, friendly..in a "friendzoned" way. *ugh!* served her right. Falling in love with the dashing hero, like some empty-headed teen girl. Oh, and the best kisser ever. "Genetic transfer" my bum! What was she thinking? This was one of those times that she wasn't particularly happy with herself. And yet.. Another sigh escaped her lips.

She rose from the -frankly not thát comfy- Barcelona in "her" bedroom in the Tardis, putting her thesis on neuro-transmitters on the Noguchi in front of her. Space-hopping and time jumping was nó reason to go slacking off on her studies. Tsch. Design furniture in a spaceship. She wouldn't be too surprised if the Doctor got that furniture as a gift from the original designers..

She looked around her to give her mind some rest. Quite nicely minimalistic this bedroom. Odd, to think that the Doctor had designed all the interiors on the Tardis. A kind of systematic eclecticism. Minimalist bedrooms, mega-messy-grunge console room. Weird steam-punkish library. Swimming pool like some fancy, but kitschy resort. He really liked contrasts, it seemed. The strange things The Doctor had collected. Though, her bed was absolutely fantastic. Something with "coolly woolly and suspending" force fields, the Doctor had waved away her technical inquiries. She'd lòve to take that bed back with her to her flat when the journey was over. Added to that, a bed like that would be fantástic for burn-victims.

Yes, another annoying habit of him, inventing nonsensical words to describe advanced technology. What does he think? That she aced all those exams and got her MRCS befóre hitting 26, because of sheer luck and good lipstick? A bit of advanced technology would not phase her she knew that of herself. She wasn't her Dad, who was already baffled and confused by an ordinary blue-ray player.

She felt the annoyance building-up again. She just couldn't help herself, and let-out a frustrated roar that clamored through the halls of the Tardis.

..and it kèpt on sounding.. That was odd. It sounded like her cry, but became a different voice while reverberating.

And then it stopped.

She looked around, bewildered. The Tardis had odd sounds, sure, she'd gotten used to them, the humming, the beeps, the soft tinkling sounds, and, of course that anguished swooshing sound, as if someone forgot to loosen the brakes, or something.

But this? This was new, and just blatantly freaky. She started towards the control-room. She had to ask.

As usual he was twiddling and fiddling with the console, nervously flicking switches, waving his sonic screwdriver (why not a "laser screwdriver" or a "Quantum Pliers" or something?)

"Ah, Martha, there you are! Why aren't you asleep?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Of course you couldn't, otherwise you wouldn't be standing here in your p-jays and bunny slippers.. I líke the bunny slippers, they're comfy, though I prefer the wolf-feet variation for some odd reasom.." He wandered off in his usual chaotic way of talking and thinking at the same time.

"By the way, do you álways scream "That Man" when you hit some extremity on furniture?" He went on, grinning, and twirled back to the console.

What? Oh my God, in her anger, she had completely forgotten she was already in her somewhat scruffy pajama's. Oh just great, really spiffy. More embarrasment, yesh. Exàctly what she needed. She felt her face go red. Something that most certainly did not escape the Doctor.

"Oh, no, no reason to be flustered, no problem, you look loverly and cute as a button in your p-jays."

She looked at him, his lovely eyes threatening to swallow her whole. Those beautiful brown eyes, that cute hair asking to get tousled, asking to dig her hands in, and kiss...Ooohh, nooo. Not now. She felt herself go all wobbly inside again. She swallowed hard, sighed (again), and plopped-down on one of the old car seats scattered around the console. (design chairs in the bedroom, but tattered car-seats in the, arguably, most important part of the Tardis? The Doctor was really schizophrenic in his design choices to be honest..)

"Actually, Doctor, I'm here because there is something odd going on in the Tardis"

"Ooohh.." The Doctor mumbled. "But that's the norm, frankly. However..."

His voice wandered off.. "Yes, there was this cry. I thought it was you, stubbing Your toe against the bed, or something"

"Ahem. Ehh. Yes, I hit my elbow at the dresser" she lied.

He cocked his head. "How on earth did you hit Your elbow on a low dresser? Crawling around on the floor? And here I was, thinking Ì had odd habits".

After -apparently- pondering for a bit, he again swirled around towards Martha, his face suddenly very close to hers, his eyes studying her face, giving her serious hot flashes again. Did he do that on purpose? She met his gaze with as much determination as she could muster, suppressed a snappy come-back, and decided to listen what he had to say.

"No, no, no, no, there's more". He went on. "You know why? Because I most definitely heard the Tardis repeat your cry.." And that's quite unlike her.." Hmm. He messed-up his hair. "There's quite a bit more going on"

Martha felt uneasy. Why was he going all ponder-y. If he got that look, and messed-up his hair, he was about to figure something out.

"You dó know that the Tardis is semi-sentient, hm? Or, at least, you probably figured that out by now. The Tardis is álso very sensitive to strong emotions. It messes up her logic space-time-dilators. It makes steering her a tad daunting. When strong emotions are sensed -and that's independent from space and/or time.. There's a reason that I end-up at trouble spots in the universe. I have to admit that my control of her is somewhat iffy every now and then."

He turned to her. "Something is eating at you, and it has an effect on the Tardis"

By now Martha felt extremely guilty. Having her spat about this teeny-crush apparently negatively influenced the Tardis.

She felt her face heat-up and mumbled "I'm sorry.." And to her astonishment the Tardis started to echo that in hushed tones "I'm sorry..I'm sorry..I'm sorry.."

The Doctor looked around. He cocked one eyebrow, and waved his sonic screwdriver around, as if scanning. "There. It's happening again. The Tardis is echoing You.." And then, contrary to what she expected, he gave her the biggest grin she'd ever seen. "She likes you, she réally likes you"

"What?" Martha looked at the Doctor "she ..lìkes me? What on earth are you going on about?"

He looked at her with that headmaster-look, she'd often seen him use when confronted with -in his eyes- utter simple-mindedness. "For someone about to become a true Doctor, You can be quite thick. Almost as thick as I. Semi. Sentient. Machine. Haven't you been listening? Look. The Tardis echoing Your...outbursts.. is a way of, well, attuning herself to You. Yes, yes, odd, weird, and odd, odder-the-odd, but that's how she runs.

Now, off to bed with you. Humans need their sleep, and I need You clear-headed tomorrow.. whenever that "tomorrow" is.."

Martha stood up, and looked at the Doctor with a scowl. "I'm a grown woman, nòt some child that can be sent off to bed if she starts to be bothersome" Luckily she was able, though only barely, to stop herself from stamping her foot.

"What? No, no, no, you're no bother. Really you aren't" and he gave her that big smile that made her stomach flutter. Every. Bloody. Time.

"Grrmbl" she suddenly felt a long yawn well up. Oof. The affair on that spaceship, all those emotions, the despair she had felt in that escape-pod, hurling towards the sun, but also the elation when she had saved the Doctor's life, it all came crashing down on her.

"You're right. I'm as knackered as I was the first time I ran night-shifts.." She sighed again. "I'm off. Don't wake me before 10.."

He grinned. "10 where, or rather whèn? You know there are places where time runs different, and 10 hours take only 5 seconds. Would make for some very short naps. I could take you to the Dracmoris constellation. Not yet discovered by your scientists, time runs extremely slow there. Great place if You need to sleep-in.." He grinned and twirled back to the console.

"Pfft, wha-evâh.. 8 earth-hours of sleep, please.." She started walking to her room. Turning her back on him. Terrible man.. He was still grinning when she rounded the corner towards her bedroom.

On a whim she stopped. Would she?.. She felt ridiculous, but couldn't help herself, and put her hand against a wall of the hallway, and whispered "Are You there?"

Ugh! Stupid idea. She plodded towards her bedroom, shut the door, fell on the bed...and got the scare of a lifetime. There was a woman sitting on the edge of the bed. A woman, somewhat fizzing and see-through like a ghost. Dressed in something that looked like an 19th century costume, and she was looking at her, stráight looking at her.

Martha stopped breathing. A ghost. On the Tardis. Oh dear. Something else she did not need. The woman reached out with a hand. Martha wanted to run, or just scream, like some damsel in distress. Her emotions were still somewhat raw, and a ghost was no help. At all.

And yet. She didn't scream. She didn't run. Sómething in her was intrigued. Who was this woman? Where did she come from? Was she some lost soul, a former assistant to the Doctor that died a horrible death somewhere on the Tardis? Hmm.. Martha looked closer, and the ghost looked back. There was no horror, or anything like that in her ghostly eyes. She even had a slight smile around her lips.

Well, that was about the oddest ghost Martha had ever seen.. and the only one. Not much to go by. But she wasn't threatening, at all.

"Hello Marth..fzzzts..bzztsch..a how are..tzzzt..you" the mouth of the ghost moved, but the sound came from all the walls of her bedroom. Waittaminute.. Martha looked a bit closer. Yes. The ghost had pixels when looked at in close-up. Hah!

"Ehh..H. ? Who are You" martha started..

"I..am..tzzztsch.. Here." Her bedroom walls went.

Martha hesitated. "You are no ghost.."

"I am no ghost" the room went.

Martha relaxed. "Soo. You are representing the Tardis I guess? Are you like some answering-machine? A speech synth and some smart sounding software?"

"I am..schsch..shma..smart software. I am the Tardis."

The projection became more solid (by now Martha was sure it was a projection) and the woman scooted somewhat closer towards Martha. There even was something of an imprint on her bed. As if the projection got weight. Interesting. A solid projection. Martha's sharp mind was already thinking about the consequences of projections with weight through force fields. Could be mighty useful in medicine.

"You..are..Martha. You..are..in love..v..vv..bzzzt.. with the Doctor.."

Whááaaat? Martha stared at the woman with open mouth. How could a machine -semi-sentient- or not, see emotions? Was it telepathic or something? A wooshing sound in her head made her dizzy for a bit. Voices echoing, mumbling, and other sounds reverberated in her skull.

"Oy! No mind-reading" Marta burst out. That cheeky machine!

The woman looked embarrassed. "I..am..sorry. But your mind is screaming at me. I..cannot..stop..that."

Now the projection looked réally sad and embarrassed. Well. There seemed to be some emotion there. Martha shrugged. She should have known, given the almost god-like technology the Tardis represented, that a well-functioning algorithm for emotions was most likely something that time-lord toddlers thought-out between pooping their diapers and eating, just to pass time.

Martha couldn't help herself, and tried to touch the woman, just to be sure. She felt rather solid by now, there was júst a hint of static electricity, but the dress felt pretty real. Almost as a reward, Martha got a sweet smile from the woman. Bloody hell. That was some convincing projection..

"Well now. Why have You decided to appear here?" Martha started inquiring. "Why the ghost-act, why not.. I don't know.. Appear on some terminal?"

The woman looked at Martha, almost shy. "I..wanted..to..tesssschtzzt..if I could do it. Annnnnn..nnd.d only dared i..i..tt.. With someone I trus.. .. *Adjusting ad-hoc speech system* with someone I like and trust."

"Oh..?" Was all Martha could utter. "So. You planning on hitting on the Doctor too" she couldn't help herself, and a little jealousy seeped through in her flippant remark.

Now the woman gave Martha a full, and very disarming smile. "No. A caretaker figure "hitting" on her protégé is rather uncouth. I am.. Sorry. I have to..tzzztsch..go now. He is starting to notice the energy-drain of this hard-light projection. Thank You. You won't be seeing this form for quite some time, and I am afraid that this will be our only talk for quite some time" And the woman fizzed out of existence.

Completely baffled Martha leaned in her pillows. What a mad experience. Shame that she couldn't have asked more questions. The thing that was pretty clear by now was that what the Doctor had called "semi-sentient" was far more than that. It felt kind of satisfying that the Doctor didn't know everything. Running around with a hyper-intelligent alien has a way of making even the smartest med-student feel like a dumb rock.

Question was now, should she inform the doctor of the Tardis' attempts to connect with her, or should she leave it to the Tardis to choose a time and place to show herself as a sentient being, that could manifest outside of the constraints of her computer-core.

She sighed again. No. She decided to leave it to the Tardis herself. Oy. Suddenly Martha realized that she saw the Tardis as that woman, in her mind. Well, no more worrying before tomorrow. Sleep. Now. And almost before Martha consciously hit the pillow, she was in deep sleep, unaware of the vague see-through figure standing next to her, reaching out, and tenderly stroking Martha's hair. "I'm so sorry child. You would have been perfect for him" before fizzing out of existence again.


	2. The Doctor and the Cold Chapter 2, part1

**Colder than the Doctor ordered**. chptr 2

"Aaand... We're here. Tropical paradise Philota four..."

With a grandiose gesture The Doctor opened the door of the Tardis..to close it quite abruptly again. He blinked. "Whât?..just...WHÀT?"

Martha crossed her arms, and looked at him with one brow up. "Doctor? Now whàt have You gotten us into this time? Stinky freeway? Dalek-infested skyscraper? A smelly bog planet?"

"Ehh.. Nothing?" The Doctor looked at Martha like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie-jar. "Just.. Ehh.. Well, I guess I must have missed the correct coördinates by a few parsecs... Just a few.."

"Okay, step aside and I 'll have a look myself" Martha straightened her back, and stepped towards the door.

The Doctor kind of half heartedly tried to stop her, but he knew by now, that if his companion had that "Acting Surgeon"-look about her, there was no way he could stop her, short of physical violence, and even then. He had caught something about her being a black-belt in one martial art or another, and he was in no hurry to experience if that rumor had any truth to it.

Martha opened the door, and closed it even faster than the Doctor had, echoing his 'Whât?' She leaned her back against the door, shivering, blinking, brushing the snowflakes from her shirt, and shaking them from her head.

"What on earth? That's not exactly my idea of a 'paradise' let alone tropical, unless you're a penguin.. There's sun all right, two of them even, but, but, It's all snow and ice. Where the hell did You put us down?"

The Doctor sped towards the console, all arms and legs. Pulling levers, punching in numbers, messing up his hair, and mumbling to himself in that hurried speech-pattern he always got when he was thinking and talking at the same time.

"Now what is this, the coordinates are correct, the time is corr...ehhh.. Oh, evolution-wise I'm only off by about a million years.. But. That does not make sense. I can see that I used the correct time and place, and yet, there's a gap of a million solar-years, give or take a millennium."

Martha looked at him, and felt her resolve to scold him already weakening. He was só cute when he was confronted with something he didn't instantly grasp. She could then see a bit of that vulnerability in him that made all kinds of feelings go haywire in herself. "No! No teenage-lovesick-puppy moments. No!" She mentally slapped herself some.

Martha sighed and clambered up the battered metal stairs to the console, hoping to catch a glimpse of what confused The Doctor so much.

"Martha, look. This is how it's supposed to look". He pointed at what, indeed, could only be described a true 'paradise' All blue water, palm trees that looked like a cross of coconut palms and tall mediterranean species. White sand, réally white sand. Small white and blue dwellings in the distance. Only the smallish-looking pterodactyls seemed a bit out of place. And a lovely sun.. Wait.

"Doctor, as I said, I distinctly saw twó suns, that picture shows only one. Time of day seems the same as currently outside"

"Yes" The Doctor said in a somewhat pondering tone "oh, and that is not just a picture. It's an áctual live-feed from this spot, but more than a million years back. Or so it seems. Don't ask. Timey wimey, and all that. Good, góod that You noticed it too, smart."

Martha looked closer, and indeed, the waves moved, the palms slowly swayed in a breeze, the mini-dactyls (her own word-invention, she liked it) were scurrying and flying about, skimming those perfect surfer's waves.

She pensively started plucking at the kitchen-frizz at the back of her head.

"But, if You have tuned-in Your timey-wimey tv-set, You know the right time and place. Why not go there now? Snow is nice, but only from behind a window, with a hearth fire roaring, and a nice, warm cup of tea in my hands. I do not like skiing, so this snow does nothing for me"

The Doctor looked at her. "Ah, yes. I understand, but then we'll never know what happened, would be a shame, missing all the fun and adventure"

Martha scowled "And what of it? You could go at it alone after dropping me off at mini-dactyl paradise. Don't let me stop You"

The Doctor gave her a big grin. "Ooh..'Mini-dactyl' I love it. I'm always amazed at humans' ability to find appropriate names for stuff you don't know. But, no. We are going nowhere for now. Awww.. C'mon don't give me that look. Please. There's an adventure waiting here. Beach is boring. All hot and bothering, sand in one's unmentionables ánd one's food, critters crawling where they shouldn't crawl. No, no.. But.. Well if You insìst.." He looked at her, pleading almost.

And..yes, she melted again.

"*Sigh* Okay. We'll just take a look. I hope There is some warm clothing laying around somewhere in the dungeons of the Tardis.

The Doctor's face lit-up with an almost child-like happiness.

"Yes, of course. Parka's, iso-pants. Heat-generator equipped undies, goggles, we got it all. You go dress Yourself up, and I'll see You in a bit."

Martha sighed again (wow.. A lot of sighing lately. No better indication of her love-struck'ness') and walked towards her room.

She opened the door to her bedroom, and was immediately welcomed by a wide array of garish orange polar-gear, neatly laid about her bed. There was even a lovely woven alpaca sweater with a cheeky "trust me, I'm a Doctor" embroidered on it. She smiled and let her hand caress the soft material. So sweet. Mama Tardis had thought of everything.

She still felt a tad ridiculous, but she was going to do it anyways! "Thank You very much" she said to the air, and looked around. A tinkling, almost like giggling, sounded, and a soft, somewhat modulating "You're welcome" followed.

Heh, so, that weird night before wasn't her imagination. Good to know.

She started to undress down to her skivvies, and had a look at the things on the bed. Hmm. There was probably a specific order to it. Polar-expeditions were not exactly her thing. She was more of a "nice weather and some drinks in a hammock" girl. Blizzards? Parka's? Iso-suits? No, she'd rather not.. Now, what comes first?

As on command, the screen above her bed came alive and a rather instructive little movie began to play. A solemn male voice, with a peculiar northern accent, started to name all the stuff she saw lying on her bed. Hmm. Handy.

After a bit of tugging, moving in cumbersome, embarrassing ways and some wriggling, she had all gear on...and looked like a lumpy dwarven princess. A fiery orange Lumpy Dwarven Princess. Moonboots and short legs. Bad, bád form! And it was hót, my word was it hot. Pffft.

She shrugged and said to the silent air in her room : "well, here goes nothing" The tinkling sounded again. Martha smiled. Kinda nice, having a "mom" away from home. She should call Mum when this bit was over. Yes, she should.. But not immediately..

The Doctor already stood by the door, covered in the same, loud orange, frumpy polar gear that she wore. Impatiently fiddling with his sonic screwdriver.

"Ah, finally. What took You so long?"

Martha gave him a raspberry.

"I have never, èver worn hard-core polar expedition frocks. Look at me! What did You expect. Luckily the Tard.. Ehh I found a vid with instructions." (No need to give The Doctor the finer details of Momma Tardis. All in due time)

He looked at her for a moment, and then the broad grin came back. "You look cute as a button all cozied-up in that. And it's 43 below zero outside. Sooo. Ready for some fresh, vèry fresh I might add, adventure?"

Martha grumbled. "Fresh, indeed.." Ah well. Let's see what this out-of-time planet is about. She smiled at the Doctor."Yes, let's see. The sooner You know what's going on, and fixed it, the sooner it's sun, sea and hammock-time"

The door of the Tardis closed behind them, and a bone-chilling wind immediately started attacking. Martha felt like her breath was literally taken away, gasped, and ducked deeper in the fur of her hood. Even the Doctor seemed to be taken-aback by the sudden onslaught of cold wind and fine ice-dust. Dust that was -although quite beautifully sparkling- really, réally nasty, cold and sharp. The Tardis had actually materialized in a small depression, but that didn't do a whole lot to abate the nasty wind and cold.

They clambered up the small slope of the depression and were greeted with utter, featureless white. White everywhere. No mountains, no ice seas or anything like it. There wère some slight undulations here&there, but that was about as far as the 'landscape features' went.

Martha looked over the white plains, happy she had listened to the vid, and brought along the goggles with sun-filters. The white was truly blinding. The Doctor, however, seemed to be wholly unperturbed by the light. 'Pffft..Timelords' "always physically superior" Martha silently huffed.

"Martha? Do You see that hump in the distance?

She tried to look at the place the Doctor was pointing at, but saw nothing but the colorful sparkles of ice-particles whirling around her. My goodness was it cold.. She shivered again, but, to her utter joy, an increasing warm glow around her back and tummy noted the starting of the heated undies. Ahh.. Better. Her fingers started working again too. Well, at least she knew 'cold-shock' from experience now. Nothing beats practical reality. Books and courses are fine, but to réally experience what a sudden burst of cold does to a person..

"Ah, You're thinking about medical things again, hmm? That is what I lòve about You. Always busy learning" The Doctor gave her a appraising nod.

"Now learn this: look at that distance again, and blink three times in quick succession"

Ehh.. What? Well, why not. Martha did as she was told, was rewarded by some soft whirring in her goggles, and a sudden clarity of vision that came about. 'Hmm. Built-in binoculars. Interesting. She stumbled for a bit, not used to seeing so far. By now she could, indeed, see something like a hump in the, otherwise flat plain they were standing in. The hump had an orange bit sticking out of it. Something with windows, it looked like.

"Now You see what I meant?" The Doctor looked at her inquisitively.

Martha nodded "Yes, I can see it, but, ehh... How do I turn off the zooming? I am afraid of falling flat on my bum when I have to walk and only am able to see in the distance.."

"Oh.. Sorry. Blink four times in quick succession. When zooming again, it's three blinks, and two blinks for every extra bit of zooming. Ingenious, isn't it? I got these goggles from an ice-pirate on trakkarf two, as a trade for the recipe of fried glukka-worms with yobbock-sauce. *Brrr* Nasty stuff, after eating that, talking and tasting is completely impossible for two weeks, your tongue goes all dead and stiff...but revered by ice-pirates. Especially since I refined it with a bit of jalapeño. Got that idea from quetzalqu... Ehh.. Yeah.. For another time.."

Martha looked at the Doctor, and shook her head. Always spouting weirdness, that man.. "Look Doctor, just let's get at that hump over there, yes? Since my behind is freezing off, Your culinary prowess has to wait for a bit"

The Doctor grinned. "Ah, yes Martha Jones. Always the practical one. Let's go" he looked at the sky "Oh, and we got about 10 minutes to get there before that weather front hits us"

Alarmed Martha looked-up and saw a reálly threatening, massive wall of clouds gathering. Oh no. That couldn't be good.

They started laboring towards the hump. Soon it came in sight, and it became clear that it wasn't a mountain. She hadn't imagined the orangey bits and the windows. It looked more like a small building, or something.

The wind suddenly began to pick-up, and she could feel the cold thróugh her heated suit. Unbelievable. They really had to hurry, but couldn't go too fast. What she had understood from the vid, was that sweating would be detrimental to your body temperature, as sweat would make the suit moist, and it would then freeze. Leading to all kinds of nastiness. Next time, if that blasted man wanted to traipse about on an ice planet, she was going to hide in the Tardis' library. It had warm fires, books, and comfy club chairs. Oh, and great tea.

"Come on Martha, we got to get at that..thíng there, it will at least offer some protection from the wind. The way it suddenly picked-up is not normal, though. There's something decidedly odd going on"

The Doctor had taken-out his sonic screwdriver and was waving it around, allthewhile keeping his pace against the unbelievably strong wind.

Both were now almost bent with their noses to the ground, if only to stay on both their feet. The howling of the wind increased even further.

And then it stopped. Just as sudden as it had begun. No slowly clearing, or changing. Just *pooff* stormwind gone. As if a switch was thrown.

The Doctor studied his sonic intensely."Definitely not normal, this. There's something else going on. Martha? Where are You?"

"I'm here, behind the truck."

The Doctor blinked, and looked around, quite bewildered."Truck? What Truck? I see orange, and a window. That's all. Don't see You either" He looked around him, trying to find Martha's footprints, or any other traces.

"Get over here, on this side You dingdong!" Martha shouted exasperated.

The Doctor plowed through the heaped-up snow to the other side of the hump, to be greeted by a triumphant Martha, pointing at, what was clearly, a caterpillar track, supported by three wheels in a triangular formation.

His eyes widened "Oh. Martha. You're brilliant!"

"Pfft" no, but I do not waste time pondering, and mumbling to myself, especially when I'm outside, cold, and just experienced my first snowstorm..oh, and there's a door up there. It's locked, though. I tried. It also looks rather old and battered. I have no idea how long this snow-truck thingy has been here."

The Doctor looked up, and started to climb the enormous track towards the door above it.

"Oh.. That's all? Well" A bit of warbling from his sonic screwdriver later, and the door opened, creaking, clumps of ice and hard-frozen snow falling off.

"You were right Martha. This door hasn't been opened for quite some time. Hello? Anybody inside? We mean You no harm!"

Silence greeted them. A silence broken for a bit by the soft hissing of small snow flurries whipped-up by an -again- quickly increasing breeze.

"C'mon Martha, let's get in. The storm is coming back. I do not want to be outside again when it hits"

Martha climbed the tracks, hopped-in, and the Doctor thoroughly closed the door, which had some impressive locking-handles and such. They were jùst in time. A soft rumbling started to reverberate through the large vehicle. A rumbling that became a thundering, scaring Martha to no end. The interior suddenly shuddered for a bit.

She couldn't help herself, and grabbed the Doctor by his arm. "What was that? That sounded worse than the storm we walked through"

..and then it stopped again.

"Hmm..yes.." The Doctor was -again- studying his sonic. He spun towards Martha. "You know? If the next storm hits in exactly 10 minutes, I'll know more. There's something decidedly odd with the weather patterns here. They're too regular, too much like clockwork. Well. Let's start to the front of the truck. Maybe we'll find something interesting there. Logs, or saved research, anything that might help explain why this tropical paradise is one million year out of whack, and in the middle of an ice-age.

Martha threw the hood of her parka back, and felt her hair. Ugh. As she feared. Hot, frizzy, mess. Cold, wet air had done her in again. Why had she inherited Dad's hair, nòt the perfect curls of her Mom. Nooo, of course not. Those were for Tish..

"Martha? Why are You fondling Your hair? It looks great. You always look great..I lìke those wild little curls, they look fantastic..

Oh, no.. His sweet words triggered her stomach-wobblies again.. He liked her natural hair.. He really did.. Aaaaaarrggghhh! She took a deep breath. No time to be self-conscious. And since when did her looks bother her so much? She felt her face heat-up. Nooo! Stop it! Weird polar-truck to explore..

They slowly walked forwards to where they expected a driver's cabin or something like that, taking-in the interior. Martha looked around interested, poking and touching things and fiddly bits while walking. She had to admit that the whole thing started to pique her curiosity.

The inside of the giant vehicle looked a lot like a roomy submarine, however, unlike a sub, this thing had windows. Quite big ones at that. They were covered in snow and ice, though. Adjacent to each window were sturdy, grey metal-framed seats, facing each other, with a small table in between. Hmm. A submarine, but also a utilitarian train on steroids..

"It's not some public transport, or touristy thing" the doctor stated, letting the beam of his torch play over the chairs, small by-tables and monitors.

Martha scoffed "yeah, well, spartan interiors kinda give that away, hrm?

It's all very utilitarian. So, this is either some scientific research vehicle, or a giant getaway-camper"

The Doctor suddenly spun on his heels, eyes wide, exclaiming: "getaway-camper. Off course. I'm thick, thick, thick" He slapped his head. "C'mon Martha. To the drivers' cabin. I bet things will become clearer".

Towards the front was a small kitchenette, and, indeed, a sturdy door, easily opened with the sonic. Finally they could look outside, if only to one side. The windows on the left side were thoroughly covered in snow and ice.

The Doctor immediately started fiddling with the side consoles, waving his sonic, mumbling, flipping switches, tapping on stuff.

"Well, Martha, it seems the batteries are utterly dead on this thing. There are some amps left in the nano's, but I cannot use them somehow. Hmm.. Must be the routing, or security? Or broken wires? No, truck is old, but not broken or damaged, no... It must be something else.."

His mumbling became more and more incomprehensible to Martha 'flux-fields', 'low-current re-routing', molecular fracturing' And more "Doctor Gibberish"

She shrugged, and aimed her attention at the drivers' chairs. Sitting down in one, she studied the controls. Pretty basic. A yoke, a little serrated wheel on the middle of the yoke, probably to dial in some steady speed, a couple of pedals. Two separate handles next to the yoke, that looked like joysticks. Hmmm for brake-steering? Yes.. She was a geek, deal with it.. She scratched her kitchen frizz again. (Ugh. It would be completely pouffy by tomorrow.)

There should be a starter-button, or, for a vehicle this huge, at least some master switch to start an APU or something. Maybe that was all that was needed to get those residual amps the Doctor mentioned, into the general operating system.

She looked down, and her heart jumped. There was a key, sticking out from an old-fashioned contact. She reached out and turned the key. Some little lights around the driver seat came on, and a soft whining could be heard.

They had a semblance of power. And.. that was about it.

Martha slumped back into the seat. Well, so much for her technical prowess. Her chair was nice and warm, though... Ehh..

"Doctor!" She jumped-up and turned towards the -still fiddling- Doctor. "The heating started. Did You do that?"

The Doctor glanced up from whatever he was doing. "No, I did not do anything, yet.. Did You do something?"

Martha started digging her toe into the floor.. "I, eh, nòthing, apart from switching the ignition key to "on"." (Did she just do the little girl digging her toe in when flustered?.. Oh god, how humiliating)

The Doctor shot-up, and looked at her in amazement. "again, Dr Jones' sheer brilliance takes away my moments of glory.. Ignition-key.. Didn't think of that. Oh, and the whole cabin is heating up, including the defrosters of the windows. Look at that. Só simple. And I didn't think of it. Thick, thick, thick. That's me, mr Thickety-thick.. Oh, if I hadn't You around..."

Martha felt herself grinning and blushing from the praise."well, the controls look decidedly like a car with some snow-cat controls thrown in. I figured there wouldn't be a whole lot of difference in approaching vehicles between my world and.. Ehh 'aliens' (that felt odd, saying 'aliens' and being completely serious about it..) so, there's that.

"Well, since You started the beast, why not try and drive it too?" The Doctor asked.

Martha looked at him a bit suspicious. "Driving? Where?"

"While You were all busy trying buttons and such, I found an auto-map with a plotted route. Possibly a rendez vous, or a point of origin? You mentioned 'getaway camper'. That got me thinking. 'Getaway' from what? A stressful job? Monsters? Or a blunder of planetary scale? So, the only way to find out, is to go where this tracked fusion-powered contraption came from."

Martha looked at the Doctor questioning. "Fusion-powered"? What do You mean?"

The Doctor gave her the look of a disappointed teacher. "Come on, Martha Jones. You started this vehicle, and didn't notice there's a nice, moving display above Your head, showing a quite informative overview of this Ice Crawler mark IV? Look, it says so above Your head. You didn't believe that a diesel powered machine would be ready to run after such a long time? Your ignition-key 'moment éclair' started the reactor. Broken, or too weathered parts were being auto-repaired in no-time short. The residual amps in the nano-batteries I measured were there for that specific reason. Whoever built this brilliant contraption, knew vèry well what he or she was doing.

Martha looked up. Ow.. Sure enough. A perfect overview of the machine they were in. It was big, really big. Looking a bit like those cranes that had their cabin in front of the wheels, but with prettier lines. A high front cabin that gently sloped towards a lowered 'body', with a round thing sticking-out from the far rear. The reactor, probably. Looked good, though. Oh, and next to the systems-screen was a kind of GPS screen. Wouldn't it be funny if, or when they activated it, a posh woman would start saying 'at the next roundabout, turn left' well.. Over here more like 'at the next penguin, take a right turn' She giggled.

"Very well Doctor. I'll drive this thing. If we fall in a crevasse, it's Your fault. But why not just take the map to the Tardis, and use her?"

"Hah!" The Doctor grinned that lovely grin again. "Where's the adventure in that? And You don't fool me. You already discovered the forward ground radar, ànd the auto-pilot. I saw You fiddling with speed and distance. 300 miles. On snow and ice at a leisurely 15 miles per hour. Miss Jones, I think You dó have a peculiar talent for driving. Something that will probably come in handy in the future. And You áctually have a weakness for big machines. But now, Allons' Y! "

Martha mumbled "I once played snowcat simulator, and I enjoyed it. Don't You dàre tell Tish or my brother", and nudged the controls forward, the behemoth shuddered and started to slowly crawl from the icy grave it had been stuck in for who knows how long. Humming a happy tune of fine-tuned gears and generators and electric motors, elated to be free again.


End file.
